Ghost of a Magician
by sofia815
Summary: A new hero named the “Masked Magician”, more enemies that aren’t ghosts, and alien sightings are all hitting Amity Park making life more difficult for our ghost halva. Not to mention a new kid with a thing for pink hats. FOP x DP
1. Chapter 1

**Ghost of a Magician**

**Summary: A new hero named the "Masked Magician", more enemies that **_**aren't**_** ghosts, and alien sightings are all hitting Amity Park; making life more difficult for our ghost halva. Not to mention a new kid with a thing for pink hats. FOPxDP**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or Fairly Odd Parents… it would be really cool if I did because then I'd be Butch Hartman… and all awesome and stuff… but I do own this really bad plot… and maybe emo-Timmy… he's kind of mine… I guess…**

**A/N: I'm really sorry to all of my Second Taile fans but this (and about another 12 plot bunnies) wouldn't stop bugging me. So I chose the least stupid (or at least the one that didn't involve 5 billion OCs) one to write out so hopefully I can get back to my favorite kitsune hanyou.**

**And to all of you who have decided to read this based on my… interesting summary I'm going to warn you right off the bat: Timmy is a tad (a lot) bit angsty and OOC-ish (especially in this prologue/first chapter) but I mean… if what happens in this story actually did happen to the "real" Timmy I'm pretty sure this would be an accurate depiction… sort of. **

**WARNING!****This first chapter/prologue thing gets WAY angst-ridden and tear-inducing-ly sad in some parts. ****THOSE WHO WOULD RATHER NOT BE DEPRESSED SHOULD SKIP TO THE NEXT CHAPTER**** (whenever I put **_**that**_** up) ****BUT YOU WILL PROBABLY END UP CONFUSED****… so… with that said… enjoy?**

* * *

_Prologue_

It happened on Friday the Thirteenth. It really shouldn't have surprised him, the date that it happened that is, he'd had enough experience with the Anti-Fairies to know that something bad _always_ happened on Friday the Thirteenth. He should have checked the calendar, or at least noticed, the day before so maybe he could have prepared for something… anything… that thing.

But even if he had, it wouldn't have done much difference, there was no way he could have (well before it had happened anyways) thought anything so… purely evil could have happened to him. The most evil he had ever encountered in his thirteen (nearing fourteen) years of life would be Vicky, his old babysitter, but even she paled in comparison to this… this… it was that bad.

At first he had thought it was just a dream, a mean trick that the April Fool, Jorgen, or even Remy had taken too far. But it wasn't, it wasn't. Oh, he had wished it hadn't happened: going as far as using his carefully locked away (he had _learned_ the first time) Fairy-versary muffins to reverse it, but to no avail. He had tried the time scooter, the Re-Do watches, and every other past wish that might be able to help him. But it had still happened and there was no way magic (even if he did have the support of nearly every magical being out there) could undo it.

So he turned to science. He went to AJ at first (he was still a bald, sweater-vest wearing, genius), after all if he could end world hunger and make eight clones of himself then he _must_ be good; unfortunately, though, not good enough. So he turned to the boy with the best laboratory in the universe, Jimmy Neutron, his once rival in love (although the fudge-headed boy would never admit it, he did finally win Cindy over) and probably the only one who could safely know his secret; he had tried, modifying one of his old inventions, and succeeded… to some extent.

The memories of the two brunettes' "success" were the only things worse than the actual incident. Although it had biologically restored them, it did nothing to appease the gaps for their minds, their hearts, their _souls_, they were merely empty shells; zombies, but so much worse than the "fake" ones from that one Halloween. The shock, and mostly horror, had stunned them to such an extreme that it had taken all of the Retroville boy's willpower to undo it, and even then it was Goddard who had to push his owner's finger.

It had taken two weeks of insomniac inventing and dire events in his own world for Jimmy to finally be able to sleep without having nightmares. That and it was only scientifically induced naps, monitored carefully by his robotic dog and on occasions his blonde girlfriend (though neither would ever admit it) when she _forced_him to sleep. And the only time he had met the Turners was when they claimed he was Timmy in a new costume and forced him to clean their toilets.

So imagine the trauma it caused Timmy, their only son, when he had seen it. Instead of the righteous anger that Wanda would have had when she found out that he had been using science to do _exactly_ what she told him _not_ to, she had to hold in her own tears when she saw his wide-eyed, manic, shaking form. It was sad, for the police to have to escort him to the large empty house from the cemetery where he had been found soaked to the bone in the rain just sitting next to their tombstones. Although they hadn't necessarily been the best parents before (what, with the whole lying thing, the constant trying to make him a girl, their inattentiveness to him, etc.), the Turner family had gotten much, much closer over the years.

Everything had finally seemed perfect; with his group of 'loser' best friends, his strange yet awesome collection of acquaintances (ranging from TV's Adam West/Catman to the monarchs of Yugopotamia), and his family with two sets of parents (one pair magical, one pair just weird). Then that Friday the Thirteenth, it all went downhill… from the "accident" all the way down to that incident with his universal comrade. He still woke up in the middle of the night screaming, sweat dampening his pajamas, and no amount of sand and not even the Sleep-Master 9000 from the "Mattress King" Sandman could help his sleeping problems.

His grades, though, had mysteriously gotten better despite the fact him zoning out in class (probably sympathy from Mr. Crocker, who had followed Timmy through the years as teacher, and plus, he wasn't completely heartless… sure, he enjoyed children's misery but only when he was the one causing it) and he had somehow gotten much more popular (Trixie Tang, even asking him out, and surprisingly getting rejected) on the grounds that he was now "rock star cool" (despite the fact that he had been 'main man' to Chip Skylark for years).

It figured, though, that everything he thought he had wanted before- the grades, the fame, and even the _girl_- would come _after_ he lost the two most important humans to him. As if losing them weren't hard enough, the Anti-Fairies just had to mock him, too. When he had been in one of his more cynical moods, he had told his godparents that little notion. It had taken Jorgen and him scrambling all of the Fairy Cadets to stop Cosmo from breaking _in_ to Anti-Fairy World and doing whatever the fairy equivalent for murder was to his evil counterpart. Needless to say, no one (besides his wife and godchild) ever called the green-haired fairy a dumb idiot, and even that was few and far between.

Then came the lawyers, as if he couldn't have felt any lower; it was as if at the bottom of that hill was a gaping chasm to the molten center of the Earth (maybe the boost in grades wasn't just Crocker's work). Hired by the Mayor of Dimmsdale, on Chompy's insistence in order to help his buck-toothed savior, the lawyers tried to find him a legal guardian. Both of his parents had been only children themselves, and after Grand-Pappy's death when he was twelve he no longer had any grandparents. The Dinklebergs offered, since they had been the Turners' neighbors since before Timmy was born, but he had to refuse (really, they _were_ nice people but that would have been disrespectful to Dad). If it hadn't been for his experience in outsmarting The HP and Sanderson, that's probably where he would've ended up.

They went down the list of his friends: the McBadbats were too poor to handle another growing boy, AJ's parents would expect too much from him, Sanjay's mom was nice enough but he wouldn't be able to handle his friend's step dad, Elmer was… well Elmer, and he had even considered staying with Mark… but after that whole F.L.A.R.G. incident, he was always cautious to stay more than a full day around the Yugopotamian prince. Then through his list of 'acquaintances', many of whom were either ill-prepared or unwilling to take on a traumatized teenage boy (the Crimson Chin did offer him the "permanent" role as _Cleft: the Boy Chin Wonder_ but seeing as how most ordinary boys didn't go off disappearing into comic books, Timmy had to refuse yet again).

It came down to the red-wire/ blue-wire strategy: only two choices, both bad, and neither would end up remotely beneficial to his mental health. One was a foster home, not to knock on that or anything, but he was already sick of hearing "_condolences"_ from the citizens of Dimmsdale that had watched him grow up; he didn't need any from strangers, though probably very nice, who would try to play mind games with him (he already had someone to play mind games with, and his name was Gary, thank you very much). And number two was home to his two _favorite_ girls in the world; Vicky's house. The reasoning behind this was mostly because she had been his evil baby-sitter since he was eight.

Not that she was evil anymore (he was also sort of thankful to her in a way, without her he wouldn't have gotten Cosmo and Wanda); in fact once Vicky hit eighteen (for real this time) she had matured and mellowed out… a little. She was still sadistic, and she still called him twerp, and she still enjoyed putting him in girl clothes (he had gotten used to by now, really, skirts were kind of comfortable) but it was in that weird kind of "I'm your older female cousin that enjoys embarrassing you" kind of way.

And Tootie was tolerable now (to the point where he had stopped renewing the restraining order) but he still wasn't interested in her romantically. There were moments when he considered having Cupid shoot him with an arrow, so that he would fall in love with her, especially when she stopped being so fan-girly and showed her care for him in a less creepy way. But she was of the "I'm your younger female cousin that enjoys annoying you" type of role in his life, nothing more.

As much as he had been _okay_with living with them, their parents were okay too even if they were a bit on the push-over side, it was just too… too normal and yet weird at the same time. It would have been like he was being baby-sat by Vicky all the time; and he would always be waiting for when his parents would come home… only to realize that they never would. He would be forced to walk around the town where he had grown up and wonder how his parents were doing at work or if they still remembered being Mighty Mom and Dyno Dad; the small things that would constantly remind him that he was now an orphan.

It would have been psychological hell.

So, he took it into his own hands… or wands, seeing as how he wouldn't actually be doing any of the work. It was his first wish since his failed attempt to bring his parents back to life; and this one would work. Wanda had nearly burst into tears of joy, worried sick about her godchild's withdrawal from magic, and Cosmo had celebrated the "rebellion against The Man" with a snow-cone and corn party. Even Jorgen was willing to bend "Da Rules" for Fairy-World's favorite pink-hatter; which was a big help considering he would need to do a little (a lot) bit of illegal magic… namely falsifying documents.

It helped him deal, in a way, creating relatives that didn't exist, it made him feel less alone, even though it was only Cosmo and Wanda in their human forms. But it also hurt a little, lying about his parents; it was like he would be the only one who truly remembered them as they were, before his magic meddling. It was what had to be done, though, if he wanted to leave Dimmsdale. He had never been one to run away, well at least for the important things (where Francis was concerned he was okay with being a coward), but this one… was huge. Far worse than any punishment Jorgen could come up with, worse than any test Crocker or any 'game' Vicky could come up with, and far worse than any scheme Anti-Cosmo could come up with.

He had asked the smartest magical beings he knew, including Santa and his extensive information network; there was no way Anti-Fairies could have done it, at least not with their own powers. Even if they were the evil counterparts of normal fairies, they still had to abide by "Da Rules". The only beings that could… _off_ humans (besides themselves) and even revive them belonged to Higher Magic; Higher Magic that made even Cupid's free-will-bending love magic look like Mr. Bickles' in comparison.

No, Higher Magical beings were powerful. They only involved themselves in_important_ situations, and since the Abra-Catastrophe had not concerned them in any way (even if it had changed the dominant species on Earth and enslaved humanity in two different ways), one human's pleas would not get to them in the slightest. There was no chance, no matter what he did or what method he used, that he could reverse the irreversible. The only thing he could do now was run away, and this time there would be no Mom and Dad to wait for him to come home.

There would only be an empty house, too big for his scrawny self, faint memories that were easily outshined by fairy godparents', and the endless feelings of guilt that he could've done something more… or he hadn't done enough. He would no longer have his childhood innocence; material things would be empty, and even magic that had once amazed him would only be able to distract him. Not that he was willing to lose Cosmo and Wanda, quite the opposite, in fact he needed them now more than ever; needed them to keep him sane, to lift him back up to normal.

Yeah, whatever _normal_ was for a child with fairy godparents, and this specific godchild was beyond any other. After all, he had done everything magical that any kid would want to and more (like changing genders… _that_ would be one of the 'and more'). And where would a lone teenage boy with endless amounts of magic at his disposal go without being noticed? Why, the most hectic city and chaotic city in the world (besides Dimmsdale that is):

Amity Park

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**A/N: Yup! I told you it was kind of… strange. But still good, right? Right? REASSURE ME! (Okay, just kidding, but reviews would be nice)**

**And yes, I **_**was**_** specifically vague on how the Turner parents died (Bad me! Why did I have to be all evil and kill them off?) If anyone has any ideas on details… or if someone is really picky and **_**must**_** know then just review or message me… And yeah, he didn't quite get to Amity Park yet… but I wanted to get this up before Monday… and it kind of ends nicely this way, don't you think? So anyways, any compliments (unlikely), complaints, suggestions, and etc… just review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ghost of a Magician**

**Summary: A new hero named the "Masked Magician", more enemies that **_**aren't**_** ghosts, and alien sightings are all hitting Amity Park; making life more difficult for our ghost halva. Not to mention a new kid with a thing for pink hats. FOPxDP**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or Fairly Odd Parents… it would be really cool if I did because then I'd be Butch Hartman… and all awesome and stuff… but I do own this really bad plot… and maybe emo-Timmy… he's kind of mine… I guess…**

* * *

_Chapter 1_

That was two months ago, his decision to move to Amity Park and to create Cosmo and Wanda's human identities. One particularly clever (or sneaky, whichever you prefer) member of the lawyers had made him stay in Dimmsdale until he finished the current semester of school. And like he had predicted, it was hell. He had stayed in his home- no, not home any more; it was too cold and dark for that title- house, with a social worker checking up on him every so often.

But while he had stayed inside the house, he had lived inside of his fairy godparents' castle; staying isolated in one of their many rooms (he had learned the first time not to wander around too much) doing the unexpected: studying. After playing the "Not-study game" so much, it was difficult to break his habit, but he wanted to try anyways, for three reasons:

One, it would help his rather pitiful transcript if he increased his grades. Entering a new school with D's and F's would not friendly teachers make… no, he would boost his GPA by second semester so that when he entered Casper High (what kind of name was that anyways?) he wouldn't look like a complete moron. From D's to F's it had jumped all the way to B's and C's (and one A, if you wanted to count Art with Mr. Bickles). Sure, they weren't quite at the quality of when he had wished to know everything or read people's minds, or even that one test he had scored an A on by doodling; but it was much better than his usual under-achieving scores.

Second, it gave him a foolproof and legitimate excuse to stay away from people. Antisocial it may seem but… wait, yes, that was the point. He was so sick of people at the moment. People that were still looking at him with pity, reminded him of the incident, and told him how good his parents were. Those were the most irritating; as if he hadn't known his parents were good people before! And the worst of it were his peers… those who thought it was 'cool' that he was orphaned. The cool kids- Veronica especially- had been pestering him to throw another party at his house, claiming that he "had nothing better to do". Seeing as how he couldn't stand them in the rare seconds they were talking to him, he could imagine a lot of "better things to do"… like wishing for deadly hyperactive ninjas to play with.

But they weren't the worst of it, no not by a long shot. Let's just say that he would have other uses for those deadly ninjas involving several explosions, vengeful foxes, and a certain gray-skinned bully. What kind of insensitive jerk said those things about another person's parents, _especially_ when said parents were deceased? It had taken all of his logic, friends, and magical pink "backpack" and green "books" to keep him from attacking Francis. Pay no mind to the fact that Francis was still larger, heavier, stronger, and overall better at fighting… or the fact that he could've wished for something more harmful than his own fists (although clowns on a unicycle weren't all that pain inducing). No, it would not be beneficial to him or to anyone else for that matter to leave the fish castle for "socializing"… not the least bit beneficial.

And third, it stopped him from thinking... wait, wasn't school supposed to make you think? Yes, true, school makes you think, but about school things. Math, History, Science, English, Foreign Languages, Health, Extra Curricular Activities- those are the things that school makes you think about. Studying filled his mind with "useful" information: stuffing his head with things like the Pythagorean Theorem, osmosis, the Emancipation Proclamation, how to say "wash dishes" in French, and that things labeled TOXIC shouldn't be eaten; as fascinating as they were, they served only one purpose in his mind- distract him from his more depressing thoughts.

He had felt guilty, isolating himself from the people that did care about him: his friends, Tootie, the adults he had endeared himself to; he probably wouldn't see them in a long time, not if he could help it, and they were probably the only factors that could possibly change his mind. But they didn't; well they had tried to convince him otherwise, but they knew that leaving was probably the best for him. He had spent "quality" time with each of them: a sleepover with his friends in the tree house (no argument about Crimson Chin vs. Crash Nebula this time), he played "dress up" with the sisters (bad idea, seeing as how he was forced to "marry" Tootie and with Vicky there, he was the one in the wedding dress), and he had even almost "gotten caught" by Crocker for old times sake (that had earned him a lecture from Jorgen involving several dumbbells and Mr. Tuliptoes).

And the day before he left, they threw a farewell party; everyone in Dimmsdale had come, including the lawyers and social workers, and the fairies had held another convention in the bathroom (even if they could see him at anytime, they still liked the party idea). Sometime around 2:30 in the morning the parties had begun to mix, but either nobody noticed or minded, and it wasn't until 6:00 AM did the party finally end and people leave. There had been some mishaps, like rogue magic from the bathroom changing Vicky's head into different shapes and a contest between Cupid and Wanda at who was a better shot.

But it had been worth it, and plus, every teen deserved at least one wild house party. The mess had been wished away, damage undone, and the more embarrassing events had magically disappeared from everyone's minds. Everything had been put back to the way things always were in the Turner household: cold and empty.

Then he broke down and cried; heavy sobs racking his fourteen year old form, tears forming a large puddle on the tile floor. It had been the first time he had visibly mourned for his parents, and if he had any respect for his parents' wishes it would be the last. If they were watching him they would not want to see him wallowing in sorrow and guilt, especially not guilt. But he would be a selfish little kid, and allow himself just one solid self-pitying cry fest. As the tears slowed, and he felt his consciousness slipping, he had the strangest of resolutions and the strangest of flashbacks that he shouldn't have and wouldn't remember.

When he woke up, he was in a different house being watched by a Mr. and Mrs. Ferry.

* * *

"The school appreciates your charitable donation, Mr. and Mrs. Ferry. The new textbooks and computers were overly generous, but switching the classrooms' old chalkboards with Smart-Boards and the P.E. gear was much too kind." The principal, a smartly-dressed Japanese woman, thanked the couple in front of her for their gifts.

The three adults were seated in Principal Ishiyama's office, the school's authority figure flustered for the first time not involving ghosts. The Ferrys, besides being philanthropic, were a rather strange couple: Mr. Ferry had shocking green eyes with hair to match, and wore an ironed dress shirt and black tie; but his appearance wasn't the only contradicting aspect of him. His attitude went from sweet and hyper to thoughtful and cruel, and his voice from high-pitched and annoying to a slightly evil British accent. And his gaze had darted every so often to his wife, as if waiting for her approval.

Mrs. Ferry, on the other hand, was fairly normal- disregarding her pink swirling hair and eyes and her bright yellow shirt- if a bit exasperated as she nagged her husband. But she supposed the wealthy- which was what they must be considering their donation of about $50,000 worth of school equipment- were allowed their eccentricity (at least they weren't like the Mansons who were convinced they were an 'average' couple in the 1950s).

"No need to be so polite, Principal Ishiyama, we just want to make sure that Casper High is fully… prepared for Timmy." Mrs. Ferry phrased her words carefully, as if unsure of what would offend the other woman; in truth, she was trying to warn her of the possible chaos that would come from teaching her godchild, "Not that we're trying to bribe you, by any means, its just that… Timmy is-"

"Our nephew Timothy is a magician," Mr. Ferry, now in his evil British accent mood, butted in and continued on despite the alarmed look on his wife's face, "Sleight of hand, card tricks, random animals appearing from nowhere; that kind of magic," he explained more to Mrs. Ferry than to the audience it was intended for, "So he may cause disruptions in your school, many of which might cause property damage and… other… such… things… SUPER-TOILET! So much clogging! The plunger, it took the whole plunger!" As the green-haired man reverted back to his rather idiotic side of his personality- his female counterpart rolling her eyes for what must have been the thousandth time in the last half hour- Casper High's principal decided she was satisfied (and a tad bit confused) with what was said and heard, and decided to welcome her newest student: Turner, Timothy S.

* * *

Meanwhile, as his godparents "Mr. and Mrs. Ferry" were inside the office talking to Principal Ishiyama, the transfer student sat on a bench right outside fiddling with the many additions to his new outfit. He had upgraded from his basic pink hat, pink shirt, and jeans ensemble long ago, adding green where he could, but now it was as if a wannabe fashion designer (namely Binky) had taken control of a green and pink cloth factory and rigged it to explode on the buck-toothed boy.

Though, now that he was alone, he would admit that it was a very nice looking explosion: his trademark pink hat had remained (he wouldn't allow anyone to touch it) but his pink shirt had gained long black sleeves and mystical green symbols. A pair of black cords around his neck, each with their own colored star, framed his collar bone. His once bare hands had gained a pair of bright neon fingerless gloves: the palm of one hand pink with a green back and vice versa for the other hand. Two separate silver chains (each premiering a colored star of their own) rested against each hip and were convenient holders for his Poofer Pen, a "borrowed" memory wiper from Jorgen, and the keys to his Time Scooter, his new _home_, and the safe of important magical items. His jeans were now black with similar green and pink symbols as his shirt, and his shoes (which _didn't_ blend in with his pants) were a combination of all three colors.

If it weren't incredibly tacky and useless, he was pretty sure that random pink and green belts would've been strapped onto his person. But had that happened he probably wouldn't have been mad at Binky, after all, he had specifically asked for his wardrobe to have his godparents' colors. It had been a stroke of genius (not quite at the level of Jimmy's "Brain Blasts") but after his wave of lunacy concerning Francis had passed, he had felt the convenience of having Cosmo and Wanda transform into his clothing. If there were a time he might need his godparents to control his actions- much like a puppet's strings- then they would be able to without his attire randomly changing colors.

And the fact that "young men" no longer wore pink. But it was his trademark, his identity even. He couldn't imagine life without his pink- just like he couldn't imagine his life without magic- although he did understand the need to tone it down; hence, the green and black. And as for his rather morbid choice of the third color, it seemed natural considering his circumstances. He was not and never would be a Goth but he had felt Death's haunting and it had left his mark upon him. It was a constant reminder of why he needed to change, to grow up from his fantasy world where nothing could go wrong if magic was there. No matter how it may appear, there were some things magic couldn't do, another experience he had been forced to swallow down. And considering he was a teenaged boy practically living without parental authority, black was a very good (difficult to stain) color of clothing.

Well there he was, sitting on an old wooden bench with too many key scratching to be pretty but sturdy enough not to throw away (maybe he should switch it with a new one, but he had done too much goodwill for the week), when all of a sudden a large blue balloon with legs and a strange shine at the top storms in and continues on what must have been a very long-winded lecture containing many classic literature titles. And two teens his own age followed after, both rolling their eyes and sharing looks on their face that showed they had heard this a thousand times, but each at opposite ends of the personality spectrum.

While the male was oblivious to his horrific fashion sense (his ensemble making him look like a walking traffic light) and behind the whale of a teacher's back would pull out a PDA and do… well, something with it (the blue-eyed brunette was never good with technology), the girl next to him knew she was going against mainstream appearances, managed to look good anyways, and although the black suggested more of a shadowy approach in life, she exuded more light than darkness... although more of a fiery sort of light: dangerous, painful, yet still nice to be around.

They neared his bench (_his_ only because he had been planted there for the past hour) and the light blue balloon ordered them to take a seat while he proceeded to barge into the Principal's office and continue his raving. The brunette could tell the students were regulars in here, with the way the African American kid greeted the secretaries and they waved back and how the purple-eyed girl stomped over and sat down in her regular spot on the bench.

Too bad Timmy was already sitting there, and with a lapful of unknown girl he turned a pink bright enough to match his hat. It's awkward when you realize your shirt is on backwards, awkward when you say the wrong name in the wrong moment, this was… extremely awkward. Blushing at her own mistake, she jumped over to the other end of the bench. There was an embarrassing attempt at apologies, a fit of coughing, and sheepish laughter… then silence.

Not wanting to be rude (and desperate to fix that rather gauche first impression) Timmy offered a hand over, introducing himself, "Hey," His already high voice an octave higher than usual, before coughing to return it to normal, "I'm Timmy Turner. What are you in here for?" Using the clichéd prison phrase and a smile, certainly not what some would describe as mega-watt but still big enough to show his buckteeth, accompanied it.

"Sam Manson, and this ladies man," Manson sarcastically introducing and gesturing to the boy who sat between them, dispelling the uncomfortable tension, "is Tucker Foley."

Taking Foley's rather than Manson's hand (the beret-wearer's handshake showed his dexterity but wasn't as strong as the pink-hatter's) he pressed on his question, "So you're in here for…?" And unlike his female counterpart, who had ignored the question altogether, Foley had answered the question with too many words all saying absolutely nothing.

"Oh, you know, things like that. We do this all the time; we're almost always in here. They never get the football players, even if it's their faults; though sometimes it's Sam freeing the biology frogs or something like that, or this one time I changed the school computers to always type out 'Tucker Rocks'." The techno-geek babbled on, his hands flailing in wild movements as if he could recreate those incidents.

And never one to be outdone in pointless and hilarious gestures, Cosmo joined in the Casper student's retelling adding coffee induced jumps and maniacal laughing. His wife soon followed after, sharing an annoyed eye roll with her godson and a clipped conversation that only they would understand… not that the other teens were paying attention, not with the convenient distraction his godfather was making.

"He had?" A brown eyebrow rose, as if admonishing Wanda's negligence, his average teen demeanor dropping to a stern mask of a mature adult.

"She offered, would've been rude." The fairy scowled, it wasn't her fault that the principal wanted to 'apologize for her colleague's behavior' after he had barged in and nearly blowing out their eardrums with his literature enriched ranting.

"Otherwise…" There was a sense of hanging in the sentence.

"His Fa Giggly was acting up."

Oh, the magical gland, he wondered why in the past few years Wanda's had never acted up… but maybe he shouldn't ask. It was one of those questions on the 'You Probably Shouldn't Ask Or Else It Might Get Weird' list, right under the whole 'Birds and Bees' speech with sock puppets Cosmo had stored somewhere up in his seemingly empty head.

"So he was acting-"

"Like Anti, though there was a benefit." His fairy godmother snorted softly, as if trying to hold in her laughter.

"Oh?" His blue eyes darted to the pair of strangers next to him; luckily, they were still preoccupied by Cosmo's coffee high, "That was?"

"You're a magician." Her godchild chuckled lightly, remembering back to his Masked Magician phase… when he thought he could be a superhero, "It would explain the-"

"Pink and green animals, random objects flying around, and disembodied voices? It would," Glancing back over, the green swirls slowing in Mr. Ferry's eyes and the caffeine beginning to fade off, the newly titled magician deemed it time to greet the Ferrys away.

"Well, since the meeting is done with," Straightening up and speaking loudly enough for Principal Ishiyama and the bald teacher to hear through the wall, Timmy gave a rather obvious cue for his fairies to leave, "I'll be seeing you guys at home later."

While his godparents walked towards the door (more like the pink-haired fairy making a bee-line to the exit while dragging her caffeine intoxicated husband by his collar) the green-eyed fairy had just one more random burst of energy, resulting in his loud grating farewell. "Bye Timmy! Have a nice first day of school! Hey Timmy, Timmy! Say bye to me!"

"Um, bye Cosmo," A confused look (the others within the school office had worn matching ones since first seeing the fairy-turned-man) slid onto the transfer student's face. Adding a request to his farewell, this one directed to his godmother, as a precaution, "And Wanda," said godparent's exasperation transforming into attentiveness, "if you could wait until he calms down before you… go to work."

An obedient nod, countered in attitude by a raised eyebrow that clearly said 'Duh, I already knew that', was the last that anyone would see of the Ferrys that day. Not that, after his godparents teleported themselves to the fishbowl castle and waited out Cosmo's coffee rush, they wouldn't come back to Casper High and transform themselves to various objects on their godchild's person.

Unfortunately, that would be in a while, leaving poor Timmy to fend for himself in the beginnings of the one and only horror called: The First Day of School. The two high school educators, now deeming it safe to go outside since all the yelling had ended, had finally 'graced' the three teens (and the office secretaries) with their presence.

"Timothy Turner, on the behalf of Casper High's faculty, I would like to welcome you to Amity Park, I hope you are enjoying our fair city." Pleasantries were exchanged between the principal and new student, his reply: a false compliment (he had only woken in time to get ready and 'poof' to the meeting, therefore he had no idea whether he liked the people or if the weather was nice). They shook hands- her hands deviated from the normal shape of people who worked only with papers and pens, revealing she held a microphone every now and then (perhaps his new principal was a closet singer or performer, that was much better than Waxelplax with her collection of medieval flails).

"Unfortunately I cannot give you a tour of our grounds myself, but rest assured our vice-principal, Mr. Lancer, will make sure you are taken care of. I hope you will enjoy our school, and if you have any questions feel free to stop by my office." The Asian woman smiled, a cheery tone to her monologue. In other, less sugar-coated words: Your guardians' gifts were nice, but don't expect any special treatment. Don't cause any trouble, and don't get sent to me, "Oh, and your uncle mentioned your hobby about being a magician. Perhaps you could perform for the school one day." Actual meaning: And I better not hear any problems with you and your magic tricks.

And with that, Principal Ishiyama returned to her office, a light click of the door and a loud tired sigh following after. Leaving the three teens at the mercy of a certain blue-shirted, plaid pants wearing, pot-bellied, bare-headed teacher. Not that Foley and Manson weren't already used to him; and the pink magician did have a great sense for handling the abnormal and bizarre… that would come in handy in his new home.

* * *

"This is the freshman hallway, it's only called that because our lockers are here, there aren't actually different sections for each grade," Lancer's tirade had been long-winded and title-expletive filled, but had three basic points:

The first being a lecture to discourage (more like threaten with _years_ of detention) Manson and Foley from ever freezing the school water pipes again; just _how_ they did that, the pink-hatter didn't know, but with the looks on the criminals' faces he was pretty sure he wouldn't have _wanted_to know anyways.

After that, the vice-principal had given the transfer student his new locker number and combo and his class schedule- figures that the only period Lancer _had_ to teach (instead of being the last minute substitute) was English and Timmy just _happened_to have it. In addition, the buck-toothed boy got an earful of the school rules.

And thirdly, to simultaneously get rid of and 'punish' the set of preadolescents, he had assigned Foley and Manson to 'escort' the brunette around during lunch. And while it was on the inconvenient (and starving for a certain carnivore's case) end, it was probably better than other 'punishments' Mr. Lancer could come up with.

"Then down the stairs is the senior square, they're pretty territorial about that area, so don't go there unless your classroom's there." Though the techno-geek and the Goth girl were probably the best tour guides he could ask for; an insider's point of view, people who knew about the school as more than a glorified daycare. Not that Manson's sarcasm made him feel any less pessimistic about the educational system… and he probably could've done without Foley's near-constant complaining about "missing his feeding times", whatever that meant.

"The science classrooms and the gym are next to that. And then there's the cafeteria. And-" A growl erupted from one of his tour guides' stomach, and surprisingly it wasn't Foley.

"Ah… ha-ha… sorry about that," A faint blush of embarrassment colored Manson's face, a hand quickly going to her midriff, "I'm probably just hungrier than I thought I would be. I was expecting to eat lunch,"

Grouchiness no longer giving way to manners, the ravenous teen snapped, "Lunch? What lunch? Your rabbit-food-vegetable-trash isn't lunch!" The way the African-American boy delivered that line it sounded like an old argument was about to resurface. Though, with the hunger pains it probably wouldn't be as playfully or good-hearted as usual.

"Ultra-Recyclo-Vegetarians don't eat trash! I eat much healthier and more natural food than you and your bloody meat!"

_What the heck is an Ultra-Recyclo-Vegetarian?_ That question flashed through the magician's head before he mentally stomped down on it. Now was not a good time to be asking questions that would probably add fuel to the fire… no, now was a good time for damage control.

"Dudes, chill, why don't you go to the cafeteria- we still have time left, right?- and get something to eat. I'll be fine by myself," A small reassuring smile, mixed in with a dollop of nervousness (_stopping_ fights was never one of his fortes), and the relaxing of body posture enforced the pink-shirted teen's words.

Matching expressions of guilt quickly replaced their irritated ones, apologies and disagreements rising up in their throats:

"Are you sure? We don't mind if-"

"Well if you're sure, man, we could-"

"Tucker!"

"What? I'm hungry!"

"Seriously, I'm fine, really." Slowly guiding his tour guides toward the stairwell that would lead them to the cafeteria (and hopefully towards slightly less cranky attitudes), the transfer student gained inspiration from his full hands. "How about I put these in my locker," jiggling his stack of Casper High textbooks, pamphlets, and other 'useful' things, "and I'll meet you guys in the cafeteria."

Nodding obediently (and not really willing to put up a fight against the prospect of eating) the two black-haired teens descended the steps. "Hey, Timmy, you want us to get you something?" The techno-geek called back to the starving brunette, "you're probably just as hungry as we are."

"Um, anything's okay I guess... it is _cafeteria_ food after all," Pondering it over in his mind, his appetite hastily answering for him, the magician added another request, "Hey, Foley? No cow... or goat, though I doubt they have that here. Thanks, dude." The two culinary taboos were more for his own mental sanity than anything else, after having that Dairy-Land cow always popping up out of nowhere and well, Chompy _was_ the one who first got him into morals and ethics (and a really cool hover car), it was always stomach-churning (and vomit-inducing) for him to even _think_ about having either species as a meal.

His preferences started the 'vegetarian vs. carnivore' debate- Manson finally having an 'ally' for an argument while Foley pointed out the other meat choices Timmy hadn't listed- but it was in good spirits. Satisfied with his own good deed for the day (no fairy magic used whatsoever) the new Casper High student turned to head towards his new Casper High locker.

Or at least he tried to. He hadn't expected a body suddenly crashing into him, sending his small unbalanced form and all of his weighty books over the railing of the stairs to his utter and non-magic-protected doom.

* * *

**A/N: Well, here it is… kind of anti-climactic isn't it... I was actually hoping to add Danny in there… but I decided to wait until chapter three… that and I wanted to get this up before New Year's (for my time zone anyways)… hopefully it doesn't seem too… bland. Haven't really gotten to the action yet but I kind of wanted to show his transition from one hometown to another. And I still wanted to keep emo-Timmy (yeah, he gets less emo in the rest of the story)… so yes… REVIEW!! Spread the 2008 cheer and give me reviews! Flames, Critiques, compliments (though I doubt it) are all welcomed. **

**And here's thanks to those who did review: **

**Hordak's Pupil: Thanks for the support. I haven't quite answered what will happen to Timmy; though falling over a stairwell to his utter doom is a nice little teaser isn't it?**

**mystery writer5775: Thanks… but that was only the prologue (I'm usually better at those than anything else). And as for his parents… well, maybe a certain (eventual) meeting with a certain time-controlling ghost (after he meets our halfa first!) will clear the details up.**

**Pterodactyl: hehe… yeah, I kind of went over the top with emo-Timmy's vague angst-ness… but no, it wasn't the Anti-Fairies (or not directly at least)… thanks for the support!**

**MayaAlexia: Yeah, Timmy's all squishy and emo… sorry this chapter isn't all awesome and stuff… but hopefully the next one will be…**

**And for you guys who put the story on alert… I love you too!**

**See you again in Amity Park!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ghost of a Magician**

**Summary: A new hero named the "Masked Magician", more enemies that **_**aren't**_** ghosts, and alien sightings are all hitting Amity Park; making life more difficult for our ghost halva. Not to mention a new kid with a thing for pink hats. FOPxDP**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or Fairly Odd Parents… it would be really cool if I did because then I'd be Butch Hartman… and all awesome and stuff… but I do own this really bad plot… and maybe emo-Timmy… he's kind of mine… I guess…**

* * *

Chapter 2 

Or at least he tried to. He hadn't expected a body suddenly crashing into him, sending his small unbalanced form and all of his weighty books over the railing of the stairs to his utter and non-magic-protected doom.

Attempting to save his neck (and spine… and skull… and…) the buck-toothed boy tossed his textbooks off to the side, figuring that a couple of wished-for items could be damaged and sacrificed for his own well-being. Unfortunately, 'off to the side' meant over the banister, a precursor of what would happen to him if he didn't get his act together. Tipping over head-first, he reached out for the handrail hoping his lightning fast video game reflexes could help him grip onto something. It didn't fail him… it was more like a 'C'. While he did catch _something,_ that something was more of the clothing persuasion and only succeeded in pulling the wearer into the banister. He barely registered a 'thud' of body against plaster before he slipped and had more… pressing matters to think about, like… _surviving_.

Timmy vaguely felt a hand reaching out to grab his own- even in midair he could tell that despite the hand's small size it was strong and used to fighting- settling instead on his black sleeve. It attempted to pull him back up, but slipped too; it reached out to catch him again, but it was quickly knocked away by his stray algebra book. He heard people screaming- he could barely make out Foley and Manson yelling out his name, but it was nicer than the wordless high-pitched shrieking of people from below. He would prefer to die in a place where at least _someone_ knew who he was. He felt the wind on his face from the free-fall (not that a two story drop was all that far), flattening his chocolate hair against his scalp. His senses seemed to pick up every little detail, but it seemed muffled and slow… like he was that stupid carrot in lime gelatin.

Funny how the most random of things pop into your head when your cranium is about to be crushed on impact by dirty, white hallway tiles; though, he wasn't all that worried… he actually felt more _annoyed_ by the whole thing. The screaming was giving him a headache, and the useless school forms and pamphlets kept fluttering into his face. And he felt completely gypped! There was no adrenaline rushing through his veins, his heart wasn't pounding in his ears, and no flashback passing before his eyes.

_This is a lame way to die. There's no way I'm going to see my parents like this, just because of some klutz and bad timing. _His thoughts weren't normal for a person falling to their doom, but then again he _was_ the kid that no one understood. Growling, though no one would be able to hear it, he saw the ground beginning to come too close for comfort. _Cosmo and Wanda aren't here, this means I'll have to do this by myself._ And hey, why not add in a flair for show? He was a 'magician' after all.

Pulling his knees to his chest and curling up into a ball, mindful to avoid being directly under any of his textbooks, he made his already lanky body as small as possible. It wouldn't be nearly as small as his ten year old form, and it probably wouldn't be as affective or precise as when it was originally calculated, but it wasn't called the _Timmy_ Tuck for nothing. First taught to him by A.J. (with the help of Chester's gadget-ized braces) for the purpose of freeing the skate park (never mind the fact he had no experience in skateboarding before), the Timmy Tuck had been used in the rare times where he had to depend on his own abilities rather than his godparents'. It had a 100 percent success rate… so far.

Still ignoring the screams below (hopefully the students and teachers below would be smart enough to move away from his landing spot) the pink clad teen began to lean forward, starting the first out of four turns in his maneuver. On his second turn, as he looked back up the stairwell to check the distance he had fallen, he could swear he saw a black and white blur falling after him. By the third turn it had disappeared completely, but he did feel a strange tug on his arm… which he quickly elbowed away before pulling his arm back in.

He needed to keep turning! Did whoever was pulling him _want_ his head shattered on the linoleum? So focused on completing the flips, the falling student hadn't even bothered to wonder _how_ something could be pulling on his arm.

At the fourth turn he began to unfurl- legs stretching, arms pulled out, back straightening- and at the precise moment he had pulled his chin up he had landed perfectly on his feet, arms in a T formation. There was stunned silence which then exploded into a sea of noise and people. Students pushing in on him and cheering, amazed at the fact that some… _kid_ survived a two story drop (mind you, a near thirty some feet since he had started on the third floor), and faculty trying to make sure they wouldn't have a lawsuit on their hands.

With a wall of hands and faces, it was amazing he hadn't burst out screaming like a small frightened little girl. Saying he was startled would be an understatement. His isolation in Dimmsdale had also added one more phobia to his list; right after bare feet and oranges was people (and clowns, sometimes, but they were included in the aforementioned fear). Shrinking back into a feeble position, repressing the urge to completely copy his comic book hero and suck his thumb, he felt very much like an animal in a cage...

…And we all know how a certain vegetarian Goth is with caged animals.

"Get away from him! Give him some space!" The thin freshman mysteriously able to push a pathway to the center, her taller glasses wearing friend following after. A ring obediently formed; her steel-toed combat boots were a shins' worse nightmare and not even the towering seniors were immune. "Timmy," Laying a small hand on his shaking shoulder, "Hey are you-"

_POOF! POOF!_

"Cosmo, you idiot! Sorry, sweetie"

"I wish I had some sort of distraction!"

"That's just vague enough to work!"

_POOF! POOF!_

In several multi-colored clouds, the magician teleported himself from the middle of the crowd to the top of the stairs (far, FAR away from the ledge), his pink hat being shaken in his hand. "Ladies and Gentlemen, and others… watch!" And from his empty hat seven or so different colored balls fell into his awaiting hands. Smashing his hat back onto his head he started to… juggle?

'_Well, I had to learn __**something**__ Flappy Bob's Learnatorium.'_ The crowd's eyes followed his actions; most with a look of complete bafflement on their faces, some looking like they couldn't believe what a loser this guy was, and some few were outgoing enough to clap encouragingly. The bell rang, and the crowd began to dissipate, going their separate ways up and down the hallways to their awaiting classrooms. Some immediately pulled on their 'bored out of my mind' school face, while others kept an eye and ear on the new Casper High student.

"But wait," said distraction continued on, despite the warning bell, "we're not quite done with the show!" Tossing one of the balls up into the air above the multitude, it exploded into a cloud of purple. The crowd screamed, a reaction hammered into them on instinct, but they found themselves outside unharmed teleported the same way their entertainer did. And there he was up in a tree, waving down at his audience, "Are you ready?" Some people cheered expectantly, fifth period forgotten completely, "One, two, three!"

His juggling circle was tossed above the crowd, each toy bursting into a fun feature seen at carnivals or festivals. Some transformed into games, one into a set of food booths, one had become a roller coaster, and other fun things that could possibly distract people- there was even a spherical cage with motorcycles whizzing around inside. And for the final touch, confetti and balloons rained down from nowhere, the students cheering while more and more people stampeded away from their classes and towards the fun and games… giving him the perfect opportunity to 'poof' into the now abandoned school building.

His breathing was heavy, the near-death experience coupled with stage nerves eating at his energy levels. Leaning his forehead against the cool lockers, he took several calming breaths, willing himself not to go into shock. "Thanks, guys," his voice echoing in the forgotten hallway, the excitement it had contained mere seconds earlier already sucked out. He trudged back towards the stairs, sneakers squeaking against the linoleum, as if already tired of the day… which he was.

"Oh no, sport, you know it's no problem. You wish it, we dish it! And plus, our Timmy Senses were tingling, we're sorry for not coming sooner," His fairy godmother morphed from his glove into her normal form, hovering at his shoulder level and hugging his head protectively, "You could've gotten yourself hurt falling down those stairs. Don't you ever do that again!"

"No way, Wanda! Timmy's extreme! Like when he catapulted himself to Australia, I met the kangaroo, and your hotter twin sister came over to visit. Extreme!" His godfather, clearly giving into his urge to do something stupid, turned into a green kangaroo hopping alongside his pink family while licking on a sno-cone. "Did you see the snow-cone stand I made? And the corn? Corn is ni-ce."

Slightly more cheerful at his fairy's actions, the godchild repeated his gratitude, "Thanks, guys, really," He pulled both the swirly-pink haired fairy and green-furred kangaroo in for a hug. Sometimes it felt like he didn't appreciate them enough, they were there for him no matter what, and he wanted to make sure they knew he cared about them too. "Sorry about elbowing you guys when I was doing the Timmy Tuck, but you know how A.J. is about my turns."

They looked at him, puzzled, both looking more like dolls than the parents they were supposed to be. "But Timmy, Cosmo and I didn't come here until _after_ the Timmy Tuck. We weren't up there," pointing at the air above them, where he had freefell through, "we were still at home. Our Timmy Senses didn't go off until you were in that crowd. That couldn't have been us."

"What do you mean?" The godchild was just as confused as they were, starting up the steps of the stairwell, "Who else could it-" And there, sitting in a neat stack at the top of the landing, were his books; waiting for their owner as if he had never dropped them from a thirty foot fall. His godparents poofed themselves onto his person protectively, a green face on his shirt and pink eyes on his necklace. A strange chill made him shiver as he reached down to grab the pile; the hairs on the back of his neck standing up on end, feeling watched despite the fact he couldn't see anyone. Who else, indeed.

* * *

"Dudes, did you see that! That was so cool! Man, we gotta hang out with Timmy more. A carnival at our school? Out of nothing? And did you see the motor-" 

"For the last time, Tucker, yes we did see him make a carnival out of the school. Danny and I were both there, _I_ was right next to you." The petite Goth sighed exasperatedly, slamming her locker door to show her annoyance but succeeding only to add to her headache. The school day was over, but all three were called to the office regarding the… 'incident earlier today with Mr. Turner': Tucker and Sam for 'losing track of their charge' and Danny for (according to a certain Dashiel Baxter) 'dude, almost killing and making a pink loser pancake out of the poor geek… I mean kid'.

"But it's still cool! Not even those 'professional magicians' out in Las Vegas could do what he did! Too bad he couldn't make school end, now that," His continuous talking pausing as he pushed open the doors to the office and greeted the secretaries for the second time that day, "would've been _sweet_! And did you see the food booths? There was ribs! And bacon! And fried chicken! Mmm…" Recollecting on what might have been the best lunch in his life, the resident techno-geek's mouth was busied with other things besides talking, like drooling… ew.

"Boys," Rolling her eyes at her best friend's drool, the only female turned to her other best friend… who had been uncharacteristically quiet the entire day, "Hey, Danny? Are you okay? You've been… different… not that different is bad, just not yourself I guess," Her purple orbs shone in concern as she tried to look around Tucker and meet his baby blue eyes.

His response was to sigh dejectedly and turn away, as if he were a child being lectured on their behavior.

"Don't tell me you still think that Timmy is ghost," Now her worry had changed to exasperation, the slightest of glares being sent to the stubborn boy, "I already told he wasn't."

"How would you know, Sam? You just met him today; _you_ can't tell if a guy is a ghost or not. Did you see the way he fell off the stairs- more like flew! No human could do that! And he could be some kind of wishing ghost like Desiree…" The black-haired boy flew into a tirade on his suspicions, most of which involved the words 'ghost' and 'kid'- and Danny _couldn't see_ his likeness to his father? Clueless, "Or he could be a Guy in White or-"

"_Danny_," Tucker's head bobbed back up at the Goth's harsh tone, and said halva immediately shut his mouth, "first off, the Guys in White wear _white_. Timmy wears green, pink, and black. Second, he's a _magician, _Danny, even Lancer agreed to it. All of that was smoke and mirrors, well, mostly smoke and probably a really big forklift," now on a roll, Sam ticked off each point on her fingers, and ended pointing all three of them at her lecture's victim, "And thirdly,_ your_ ghost sense didn't go off when you were near him, since _you_ can 'tell if a guy is a ghost or not'; this means: He Is Not A Ghost."

Danny opened his mouth to defend himself- and possibly start one of the rare fights the two teenagers partook in- but the wiser of the boys quickly diffused the tensions, with a well placed jibe and humor, "Geez, Sam, with the way you go on about Timmy I'd think you liked him," The African American boy elbowed her gently, her righteous anger dissolving into the gentle mock anger she always had when Tucker teased her. "Maybe it's the black, attracting the Goth in you."

"No way, Tuck, a little too much pink for my tastes," She countered easily with her sarcastic wit, he had his lines and she had hers, they could probably keep up an 'argument' for ages. In this way she and Tucker were closer than her and Danny, like the sibling that neither of them had. But she stopped, "But seriously Tucker, I think I would want to get to know him a little better before I decide on anything."

"Yeah, and plus, I don't think you'd want another Gregor-Elliot incident…" _And I had to open my big mouth_. Danny winced as he saw the damage he had done: Sam's smile turning quickly into a scowl as she brooded on said incident, while Tucker rolled his and shook his head in disappointment. The halva frowned in jealousy, how was it that Tucker could make her smile but he always made her mad… or annoyed… or depressed… or

"-in love…"

_Wait, what?_

"… magic. It's why I got so… carried away today," The principal's office door swung open followed after by said principal and Casper High's newest student, his beaver teeth in a sheepish smile, "I would definitely want to do another show, of course with your permission beforehand, Principal Ishiyama. Though, you have to admit it, it was pretty fun." And suddenly in his gloved hand was a miniature cloud of pink smoke, quickly clearing to reveal a single yellow flower, "_Wand-_I mean- Would you please accept this as an… apology for my actions,"

That was the thing with magic; it was so… magical, even simple tricks like these could change people… especially if it was seen up close. Instantly the Japanese woman's disapproving frown turned into a smile of awe, so had the tired looking faces of the office secretaries, the overprotective grimace on Tucker's, and Sam's scowl.

_Oh, he's good. He's __**very**__ good._ Danny nearly growled at the sight of the innocent flower, convinced it was merely a ploy that the other boy had done… never mind the fact that the "magician's" own eyes were wide in shock.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner, though don't think you're off the hook," The school administrator's voice was still stern, but it was significantly less harsh than what it had been moments before, "Mr. Foley, Ms. Manson, in my office please,"

As the two teens stood, Timmy was finally made aware of the other people in the room, "Wait, what are they doing here? This isn't about what happened today, is it? They didn't do anything wrong, it was my fault. They were supposed to show me around the school and they did. Foley and Manson don't deserve to be punished," Catching a glimpse at the other blue-eyed teen on the bench, the pink-clad boy continued his babbling, "Oh, and him too… whatever he's in here for."

"Mr. Turner, as _noble_ as your intentions may be," Mr. Lancer followed up quickly, having entered in the middle of the addressed student's dialogue, "You were Mr. Foley's and Ms. Manson's responsibility, and since they failed to-"

"No, Timothy is right, Mr. Lancer," The principal eyes sparkling, showing she was still enchanted with the buttercup she had received, "No one was harmed, and we wouldn't want to ruin Mr. Turner's first impression of Amity Park… the four of you are dismissed," Paying no heed to her vice-principal's shocked face, the Asian educator turned and returned to her lair… office.

Too bad "Mr. Turner's" first impression was already destined for ruining.

* * *

"Hey, Timmy, wait up dude!" 

The boy turned to Foley's voice, but saw Manson jogging down the hallway as he pushed open the school's doors. He raised an eyebrow in confusion. She responded with a roll of her eyes and thumbed over her shoulder. The owner of the voice and the remaining teen from the office rounded the corner, both winded from following him up and down three flights of stairs.

More like chased after him as Wanda 'poofed' him from the office to his locker and back to the exit, but those are minor details.

Actually, now that he thought about it, Wanda (and Cosmo, too he guessed, but the smoke had been mostly pink) had been rather liberal (yeah, he knew what that meant) with magic. He had only made one wish and yet there had been several mini-miracles, and the wish that he _had_ made was fulfilled with an over zealous (yeah, he knew what that meant, too) energy.

But that was something he would have to ask them about later, when he didn't have three normal human teens as possible witnesses.

"Manson, Foley" He greeted each teen in turn, "and… I don't know your name. I'm Timmy Turner." Holding his hand out to the third member of the group, he waited for a handshake.

"Danny Fenton," The black-haired lanky teen replied gruffly, putting his bare hand in the gloved one.

"Nice to meet you. Oh, hold up," Pausing in the handshake, the two blue-eyed boys held hands for a moment and a look of realization dawned on Timmy's face. "You're the guy who bumped into me!" It then fell into confusion, "I wouldn't have guessed you were a fighter…"

Danny pulled his hand away quickly as if burnt, his companions stepping forward protectively, though all had panicked wide eyes and were too shocked to say anything.

"Or something like that. I mean, I could be wrong." Trying to explain, the brunette pointed to his own gloved hand, the pink face on it quickly disappearing to his pink backpack, "It's just that your hand feels like it? You know, different calluses for different things, see," Grabbing Foley's wrist he held it up for the other's to observe, "It's soft at the palm, so he doesn't hold on to much, but the fingertips are calloused. That could mean either a computer or piano keyboard, but you don't seem musically inclined, so I put 2 and 2 together and figured techno… geek."

It still remained silent, even as a lone car drove down the empty street.

"We-ell, I'm gonna go to my house now," Turning away from the three, Timmy strode down the sidewalk and to the house (never, NEVER, home) he had woken up in this morning. All he wanted to do was get to the fish bowl castle, talk to Cosmo and Wanda, and completely isolate himself from all of humanity.

He got two and a half steps in before the combined strength of Foley and Manson (Fenton was still looking at him suspiciously) forced him in the other direction towards three matching motor scooters. Satisfied that their 'captive' wouldn't run off, the three teens began to unlock their automobiles and snap their helmets onto their heads (safety first!)

"How do you do that hand thing, it seemed really interesting. Can everyone from wherever you're from do that?" Manson questioned, starting up the scooter's engine with a light purr, oblivious or ignoring how weird that had sounded.

"Dimmsdale, California."

"Dude, California? Do you know how to surf? Live near any celebrities?" Foley listed off the Californian stereotypes excitedly, adjusting his red beret underneath the white plastic of his helmet.

"Dimmsdale's in northern California, so I don't get to often, but yeah I do know how to surf. And no celebrities… but if you count insane has-beens then there is TV's Adam West," He wrinkled his nose in irritation, not so much at the questions as the emotions that bled in his chest. Homesickness… he had just been in his hometown less than twenty-four hours ago, but it already seemed an eternity away.

"Insane how? I probably know a crazed up fruit loop worse than that," Fenton challenged, impatience written on his face as he waited on his own battery powered scooter.

"He thinks he's Catman. I guess it's not that bad though, since he stopped trying to make me his sidekick."

Fenton laughed out something which sounded like 'what a coincidence', but shook his head as if an old actor in feline tights was nothing compared to what he had to deal with.

"Are we done with this interview, or is this the part where you chase me out of town on your mighty scooters of doom?" The brunette's sarcasm bordered on rude, no not bordered it was rude, but his manners could only last so long.

"Nope, this is a tour more than anything, and this is the part where we chase you all the way to heaven on earth- _not_ including the electronics store- the Nasty Burger." The African American stated cheerfully, before hopping onto his own mechanical transport.

"Oh,_please_, the Nasty Burger is a corporate slaughter house designed to kill thousands of trees and pollute the earth," The only female lectured angrily, before turning to their 'guest', "So are you coming? I mean, I know you don't eat meat-"

"Just cow and goat,"

"But they do make wicked soymilk-shakes," A smirk that Timmy had fully expected to contain fangs appeared at the word 'wicked'. Well, she did say she was Goth…

"If I say yes, will you really chase me there on you scooters? 'Cuz I think I should at least get a head start," The sarcasm was so obvious, even a monkey could catch it.

"Five seconds, starting… now," As Fenton said that, Foley started a timer on his PDA, both sporting a maniacal grin.

Edging away from the three Amity natives, Timmy broke out into a run in the direction he assumed the Nasty Burger was. Exactly five seconds later the three members of Team Phantom were on his tail, each strangely feeling more playful and energetic than usual. Though, that would be explained much, much later.

* * *

"Welcome to the Nasty Burger, may I take your order?" The girl behind the register pasted on a cheery smile- though, after dealing with a senile deaf old man hell-bent on getting prune juice with his tapioca pudding (nevermind the fact that the Nasty Burger had _neither_), failing a pop quiz because she had cut class to fight ghosts, and gaining a massive migraine the size of Michigan, she wanted nothing more than to rip the cashier register off of the counter and smack the next customer from Casper High that dared to comment on her current financial status. Yes, Valerie Grey was having a bad day… At least it wasn't as bad as when she was in the stupid stuffy Nasty Ned mascot suit. 

The bulky man in front of her rattled off a list that matched the entire Nasty Burger menu lit up above her head.

She sighed, disgusted at how much Nasty food this man was willing to consume, but dutifully pushed in the correct buttons on the cashier. "Your total is $19.92," Money was exchanged, surprisingly little compared to the mass of his purchase, and she handed him his receipt, "Thank you, have a nice day!" The smile dropped, and she immediately began scowling, facing the window so no one would see. Through the Plexiglas, however, was a sight that would only serve to fuel her headache.

Danny, the techno geek, and the Goth girl all making their way towards the fast food joint was a perfectly normal occurrence. They were there nearly everyday, sitting in the same booth where she could easily keep an eye out for her crush… ex-crush… okay, maybe she was the one who rejected him, but that was for his own safety!

But that wasn't the problem, no; it was the guy skateboarding behind them, furiously trying to make his man-power exceed the battery power of the scooters. And then he… disappeared. Had she not been out in public, she would have clicked her heels together and gone into her Red Hunter form, determined to find and destroy the ghost who dared to pull any tricks on civilians with her standing right there!

Fortunately (or unfortunately, she would rather be on her jet-sled than at this dump) the boy reappeared several yards in front of the black-haired trio, the skateboarder performing a few tricks before landing on the concrete. He turned his head, presumably to talk to or make a face at the three behind him, all presumably yelling back at him (she couldn't tell, she couldn't hear), before he-

"Grey! Get back to work!"

Right… she was at work… darn. Turning back to the cash register, she had to bite back a frustrated yell. A line had formed in her moments of watching, a certain snobby, Latino, Casper-High royalty, ex-best friend of hers at the head. _Joy._

After twelve orders of food all containing the words 'Nasty' or 'Meaty', she really shouldn't have been surprised at the next order… especially since it was Nasty Burger's number one customer…

"I'll have a Quadruple Mighty Meaty Meat Nasty Burger, no lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, or onions, put as much extra bacon that can fit on the tray, a large order of Meaty Nasty Curly Fries, a super-sized root beer, and a date with you this Saturday."

"Foley." She seethed out, annoyed at his 'womanizing' and jealous at his crazy metabolism… he was stick thin and he ate here almost everyday!

"Oh… hey Valerie," The 'pickup line' voice was replaced with that of caution, "you can just ignore that last part."

She hummed (the sophisticated version of a grunt) as she pushed the buttons on the cash register, considering whether or not to ask her question. She never was one for being timid, but you don't usually blurt out 'Hey, who is that guy that was skateboarding after you on the street then disappeared in midair then reappeared right in front of you?' to a person who doesn't trust you because you broke their best friend's heart… that's just not proper etiquette.

But then the unknown guy made a small bouquet of indigo flowers appear from nowhere and offered it to the Goth girl, making her smile and Danny scowl: a paradox that should've had hell freezing over and pigs flying.

She was a logical girl, smart, she had to be with the job she held (ghost hunting, not the Nasty Burger) but this did not make any sense whatsoever! Flowers did not come from nowhere, Manson never smiled (the closest would be baring her vampire fangs), and Danny was Danny! Her shock and confusion was probably stamped on her face, because even without asking the techno-geek was answering her question.

"He's the new kid; you know how lunch was… extended? That was him." He handed her the money, it was the same amount everyday, so he had it practically engraved on his brain.

She handed him the receipt, reciting the mandatory 'thank you, have a nice day', though her mind was still on the mystery brunette. _So that's why no one had shown up during fifth period, including the teacher, but not even ghost attacks stop the schedule-_ so used to it, were Casper's faculty and student body, that only the classes whose rooms were the current battleground had to be paused momentarily- _But that doesn't explain how…_

"He's a magician, he did this crazy jump-flip thing, made a weird carnival-circus thing, totally got out of detention for it, and-"

"Dude, I'm hungry. Can you two stop gossiping so I can order?" Danny crankily interrupted, elbowing his best friend aside none too gently.

"Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Valerie teased, her voice becoming gentler, she would always be sweet on him... not that Clueless 1 ever got that.

"Whatever," He grumbled, "Can I just get a number two, coke, and fries."

"Geez, what's wrong with you?"

He didn't answer, only looking over his shoulder at the pair in black behind him. They were both smiling (tiny smiles, she was still a Goth and he was… not in the best emotional state) as he explained what the flowers were- blue periwinkles- what they meant- start of a friendship- and that pink wasn't bad- she was, after all, going to order a pink strawberry soymilk shake (and a chocolate one for him, since he _did_ beat them to the Nasty Burger, albeit with magic).

_Actually,_Valerie mused, _they look kind of cute together… in a Gothic, supernatural, he's a magician, she's probably a vampire, 'they're both going to get the only healthy item on this stupid menu' kind of way. Adorable._ Not to mention the fact that if Manson had a boyfriend then maybe she could get closer to Danny without having both of his 'guard dogs' on her case.

"That'll be $5.18. Thank you, have a-"

"Cookie?"

Danny gasped, cold blue mist escaping his mouth. Not that Valerie noticed, her own ghost detector blinking red. Before either could stop him, though, the same 'bulky' man from before uttered the reply they dreaded to hear.

"No thanks,"

"THEN PERISH!" The floating, green-skinned old lady's voice shook the walls; the meat of customers' burgers, the back freezer, and even the sizzling ones on the fryer hovering above people's heads before fusing together into an army of ghostly meat gremlins.

"Ghost!"

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait guys, and you probably don't care about my excuses… so I'll just get on to regular author babbling. I tried to make it a little longer (and hopefully keep the quality) than the previous chapters… I finally added Danny, though he's a lot more mood-swing-y than a PMS-ing girl… and I added Valerie too, because I wanted it to be from an 'outsider's point of view… but since everyone's pretty much a stranger I might as well make it an important character… and it ties everything up so nicely! I hope I haven't made anyone overly OOC (everyone's supposed to be slightly, because of Timmy and other stuff that'll be explained) and please tell me if they are and how I can fix that.**

**There's a little more action, a lot more magic, and maybe more! (As you can see, I'm having fun with alliteration.) But the magic tricks and the hand-shake thing are inspired and influenced by Gosho Aoyama's Magic Kaito and Detective Conan. For the flower thing, Kaito's first known trick was making a flower appear… I wanted to improve on that and make the flowers mean something (and since Wanda is actually the one making them appear, it doesn't get too feminine). Buttercup means childish, since one of the few known facts about Principal Ishiyama is that she's a comedian. And the blue periwinkles' meaning was said above. **

**Sorry for cutting you guys off again, and not bringing Phantom or the Masked Magician in yet, and for making this too long. (Whoa… I just realized I'll be uploading this on Valentine 's Day… what is up with me and holidays?) Thank you for reading and for those of you who have reviewed:**

**mystery writer5775: Not quite… though you were close, and I guess this isn't exactly what you would call 'updating sooner'… thank you, and Happy Valentine's Day!**

**MayaAlexia: Yeah… that was probably him… I mean, who else do we know that can freeze water pipes (though now that I think of it Klemper can freeze stuff too… Ghost Powers aren't all that original are they?) And no… Timmy won't be hospitalized on his first (or second, just to reassure you) day**

**Hordak's Pupil: Well, Timmy doesn't get to deal with ghosts quite yet (that's in the next chapter) but hopefully you won't be disappointed. Thank you for the support, Happy Valentine's Day!**

**Superheroes Fanatic: Thank you so much! I liked doing the prologue too… I was very emo when I wrote it… so I'm glad someone else liked it.. thanks for the support.**

**Dannyphantomfn2: Thank you! I love twitching too… and hopefully I'll be able to keep up the work so it continues to S0und really cool/interesting.**

**Thanks to those who favorite-d and reviewed, love you all! Please review! ((Insert shameless begging))**

**See you again in Amity Park! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Ghost of a Magician**

**Summary: A new hero named the "Masked Magician", more enemies that **_**aren't**_** ghosts, and alien sightings are all hitting Amity Park; making life more difficult for our ghost halva. Not to mention a new kid with a thing for pink hats. FOPxDP**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or Fairly Odd Parents… it would be really cool if I did because then I'd be Butch Hartman… and all awesome and stuff… but I do own this really bad plot… and maybe emo-Timmy… he's kind of mine… I guess…**

**WOAH! HOLD UP THERE! I thought the Prologue was emo? Check out parts of **_**this**_** chapter… maybe I should've marked this story as Angst/Supernatural instead… oh well… YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

* * *

Chapter 3

"_PERISH!" The floating, green-skinned old lady's voice shook the walls; the meat of customers' burgers, the back freezer, and even the sizzling ones on the fryer hovering above people's heads before fusing together into an army of ghostly meat gremlins._

"_Ghost!"_

People screamed- all echoing the first yell. People ducked- under the table away from ghostly meat attacks. People ran- out the doors, into each other, to safety, or a secure place to transform. Soon the busy afternoon hang-out was devoid of all humans, the panicking mob clearing the place within mere seconds; until a seething ghost, her angry horde of meat monsters, a set of horrified star pendants, and one confused blue-eyed brunette.

"You're a ghost?" They stared at each other, blinking every so often, as if the other would disappear any second now.

"Why… yes, dearie, I am," The Lunch Lady reverted to her Jekyll side, red eyes fading back to brown and the veins in her neck no longer pulsing, her meat minions all collapsing into harmless and disgusting piles. Both humans (or ex-human in the specter's case) had matching expressions, both of complete and utter perplexity. "I believe the green and the floating would be a give away,"

"I've actually seen that before, ma'am," Timmy admitted calmly, taking a seat on one of the nearby stools welded into the ground, turning back and forth while keeping the 'ghost' in front of him. Despite his adventures with magic and science, he was still skeptical about this grandma being a ghost. Those two things could describe Cosmo any day, that didn't mean he was one. But he wouldn't automatically dismiss it; no, it would be best if he didn't do anything stupid or insensitive and end up in the hospital his first day in town, "I'm new in town, sorry for not running in terror and screaming 'ghost' like the others,"

"Oh, no, child, very few ghosts actually want that, most of us have quite different goals," With a wave of her gloved hand, the meat piles made their way into the trashcans. They were useless now, absolutely filthy, and they weren't nutritious for growing boys and girls.

"Ah, right," The pink-hatter responded; nodding his head rhythmically the way people do to show that they're listening, "so yours is to give people a choice between cookies and 'perishing'?"

"No, I am the Lunch Lady; I control all things meat and lunch related!" Her declaration echoed menacingly in the empty fast food joint: napkin dispensers, condiment bottles, and plastic utensils rattling against the tables, the frames and lamps on the walls precariously close to shattering on the ground.

"Lunch? Aren't you a little late for that?" A chocolate brown eyebrow raised, his incredulity still wasn't satiated. Sure, she could make meat float… but really, if you're going to be a ghost, shouldn't you do something cool? Like water guns… those were fun. His question (and pessimism) was drowned out by growling. She smiled.

"Most ghosts do not know their actual purpose, but I believe mine is to feed children. That was my purpose when I was alive, and even though I may now be… deceased, I must do my job. So, young man, Chicken or Fish?"

His stomach- or perhaps his doting godmother disguised as his glove- answered for him, and before he knew it he was munching on a drumstick, listening to the undead (well, actually, very dead) lunch lady explain her limited knowledge of ghosts.

"Ghosts are- or were, perhaps, is the better word- people, too. Most of Amity Park's citizens seem to forget that. Whenever someone sees us they start screaming. We just want a break from the Ghost Zone, we are not out to hurt anyone, but sometimes when we spend such a long time there we lose our sense of… humanity." A glowing hand lifted up to her heart, or where it would be if she were still a physical being.

"Wush ja Ghosh Shone?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, dear, it's not polite,"

Rolling his eyes exasperatedly, Timmy obeyed nonetheless, "What's the Ghost Zone?"

"It's the place where… when ghosts are… oh dear, perhaps I should explain more about what ghosts are first." The Lunch Lady waved her ghostly gloved hand in the air, as if grasping for proper answers, "We are… emotion, thought, goals, regret, revenge… souls- that's it- we are just souls. People, you, are souls with bodies; you are physically attached to this world. Ghosts, I among others, aren't. When people… pass on, their bodies are useless, but their souls go to… the Afterlife. Well, I suppose that is what they are supposed to do; I don't have much experience, as you can see. The souls that can't or don't go certainly can't stay in the Human World, we cannot survive in a physical world. So we end up in the Ghost Zone. Each ghost has their own door to their own… room that is just for them. It's pleasant for the most part, but it is still just a room. Then there's the actual Zone. If you leave your room there is just blank, green emptiness. You can't feel anything, and you risk getting attacked by… others."

"Attacked by others," The brunette's eyebrows furrowed, "… do you mean ghosts?"

He didn't remember if the Lunch Lady had answered or not. But if she had, he probably hadn't heard anyways… they were both too preoccupied with the exploding wall giving way to a certain black-suited teen.

Both participants of the conversation turned at the noise, eyes wide: one pair blue, one pair brown slowly turning crimson. "Ghost hunter…"

"Back off, ghost!" Shooting several warning shots in between the civilian and the ghost, Valerie smirked as she notice the Lunch ghost summon the meat in the vicinity.

What ensued would be the strangest and most dangerous battles ever seen by Timmy… since his move to Amity Park. Shots were exchanged; one in neon pink lasers the other in globs of spectral meat, though the Lunch Lady was more on the defensive than her opponent. Mainly because the Red Hunter was flying too fast for a decent hit to get i-

"Oof!" Strike that. The jet-sled gave a low whine as its rider stabilized herself. Shooting at the meat gremlin that had managed to catch up and punch her in the gut, Valerie growled: her mood still not getting any better despite her gun turning the monster back into a normal pile of Nasty Burger's nasty burgers. That was a small victory.

The Lunch Lady roared in response, talking was obviously the last thing on her mind, much like a mother bear protecting its cub… which was odd, because the ghost had never shown much care for the meaty minions she created. Oh well, it gave the ghost hunter an excuse to bring out the heavy artillery. Near instantly, a bazooka version of her ecto-gun rested on her shoulder, charging up. In return, the specter began to build up a large wall of meat, strengthening her defense.

Once she heard that click signifying a fully charged shot, Valerie pulled the trigger: resulting in a flaming pink explosion, the Red Hunter to be sent flying backwards in the recoil, and a green dead woman to howl in pain. Taking advantage of the distraction, the young Grey pulled out her version of a Fenton Thermos and vacuumed the specter in- to be sent immediately to Mr. Masters.

She would have left right after too, the damaged restaurant wouldn't need her anytime soon, but a loud clatter- of metal on tile- made her stay… and the coughing, that too. Scanning through the charred pieces f once possessed meat, she spotted a fallen barstool… and a pink and green hand resting on top of it.

"What kind of-" Valerie started, confused, before an ashy brown mop of hair falling just short of wide blue eyes popped out of nowhere. Oh, look… the new kid. "Hey, you!" She received a fit of coughing in response, "Are you okay?"

A dismissive wave of a gloved hand.

Well, since he wasn't in the mood to talk, then she would. "What do you think you were doing? Didn't you see the ghost? Didn't you see the other people run screaming? You're lucky I came before that ghost did anything to you. Do you have any self-preservation? What do you think you were doing?" She repeated herself because, truly, she was curious now. _Does this fairy-boy think he's impervious to ghosts or something!? Is this some moronic show of courage? Or is he really that dumb to think he could stand up to a ghost by himself!? Why isn't he answering me!_ Oh, and her stress might have fueled her irritation.

"I-" The buck-toothed boy rasped out, he swallowed, "I didn't think ghosts existed…" Then, as if he could sense the look Valerie was giving him through the visor of her suit, he continued, "My parents are… gone."

A painful sting ran through her. "Mom," The young girl, because on the inside that was what she really was, looked away- whether out of guilt or something else, she wouldn't remember- she knew what it felt like, losing a parent. It was why there were only two Greys in Amity. And, truth be told, although she hated ghosts with a passion… if she ever met her mother's ghost she didn't know what she would- _No! Mom is not a ghost. There is no reason for her to be! But…_ she couldn't imagine not having her father either. How could he…

The huntress sighed; she really couldn't hold it against him. "Look, kid, you're new in town so I'm going to warn you just this once. If it's green and floats, it's a ghost. If anything starts flying around or glowing randomly, its being controlled by a ghost. If it's either one of those, don't talk to it, or touch it, and run far and fast… and no matter what that Manson girl says, ghosts aren't people. They're dead, they're not human. So don't fall for any of their tricks… especially that… _Phantom's_."

"Phantom?"

"Yeah, _Danny_ Phantom, but you won't have to worry about that specter for long… I'll be obliterating him soon enough." With that cheery note, she flew over the charcoaled wreck that was once the Nasty Burger… and would be again with a few simple words.

"Cosmo, Wanda, I wi-" Dry coughs rattled his lungs, "I wish this place was-" Heaving coughs, now, "I- ugh." Rather than that, Timmy could only think two things: _"Was the sky always this dark?" _And _"Son of a gun, the ground is coming closer!"_

* * *

Dad made it a daily routine, after that whole astronaut incident, even when he still had work and was falling behind Mr. Dinkleburg for Employee of the Month (yet again), but every so often his mom would join in… and that was always the best. Not that he preferred Mom over Dad or anything, but being tucked in for the night was nicer when both of them were there. And sometimes, they would sing. Sure they didn't have Chip Skylark's voice, and he had strictly wished for them never to rap again, but hearing them sing together, just for him, was better than any ballad from any Mr. Fairy Cowlick Jr. And, though he knew it wasn't possible, he wished that- even if they couldn't stay with him- to at least put him to bed one last time… so you really couldn't blame him for his actions when he woke up.

"Sweetie, don't do that, he's sleeping." A woman's voice, neither high nor low, the kind of voice that sounded like it could change easily from soft and caring to harsh and threatening in a split second.

"But imagine how excited he would be when he sees this awesome thing-a-ma-jig I made!" A man's voice, deep and strong sounding, which could easily be considered scary were it not for the slightly goofy inflection that it carried.

Then his eyes opened blearily, it took a while for them to focus, but he had the ability to see color.

"Oh look, dear, he's waking up!" The female voice said cheerily; a brown blur for hair, a peach blur for face, and a blue blur for body.

"What? Hold on, baby-cakes, let me start this doo-dad up! Won't he be surprised!" The male voice was excited; a black blur for hair, a peach blur for face, and some color entirely too bright for his eyes right now for body.

Later on, he would berate (ooh… big word) himself for his stupidity. How could he have possibly been confused? He may have been slightly out of it, and his senses hadn't been top-notch, and so _what_ his emotions were unstable. There were _some_ minor similarities, but what he did… how… just… it just figured of all the people it could've been…

"Mom! Dad!" The teenager immediately sat up from where he was lying down (a bed with blue sheets). His still sleepy eyes scanned what little he could see of the room and he couldn't stop himself from jumping down to the hardwood floor. He didn't know why or for what, but soon he was moving towards the hazy shapes of the voices… only to be pulled away by a hard, cautious voice.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," The slim hand yanked harder on the back of his shirt collar, a female probably… though different than the one before.

"Wait, no, why would-" Timmy protested, resisting the pulls, until he saw green lasers disintegrate the ground were he had been standing earlier. "Oh…"

"Yeah, that's why. I'm Jazz, by the way, sorry about my parents, they are a bit… eccentric." She let go of his shirt so he could stand up properly. He turned, his now completely awake eyes seeing his rescuer. A blue-eyed red head, slightly taller and older than him, wearing a black long sleeve shirt and a pair of turquoise Capri's. In her long hair was a matching turquoise ribbon, on her feet a pair of flats, and while her expression showed annoyance and apologies her eyes sparkled with wisdom beyond her years. But that's not what was important.

"**Your** parents?"

"**My room!"**

All four people in the room turned to look at the three in the doorway- one blue-eyed black haired teen in particular.

"Mom! Dad! What did you do to my room!" Danny's glare darted back and forth between the gaping, smoking hole in his floor and his parents.

"**His** parents? I thought they were…" The brunette turned back to look at his parents, only to see a pair of strange, jumpsuit-wearing, well, strangers. Now that he was able to see them properly he could tell there were major differences between this couple and the one he had mistaken them for.

Mom's hair had been a different shade of brown, and the hairstyle had been different. Her face had been rounder, her eyes a different color, and she wouldn't have been caught dead in such an outfit (although her work-out clothes were kind of weird). And Dad looked _nothing_ like this man. Probably the only thing they had in common was the black hair and questionable IQ level… although Dad's hair was his pride and joy, this man had white hairs growing already… and Timmy _knew _his dad wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, this man looked like he could make said tool then rig it to explode.

He felt something inside him burst; the magician didn't know whether it was his heart… or that little bubble of hope that just had appeared when he thought…

"Thought they were…?" The red-head focused her eyes on the shorter teen in front of her, noting the expression changing on his face and the defeat that seemed to burden his back all of a sudden, "Who?" Jazz prompted again, the psychologist in her unwilling to let a possible interesting case go.

"… Someone else, that doesn't matter now… though… I-"

"**My ROOM!"** As if afraid of being forgotten, Danny yelled again, this time stepping into the wrecked space and pointedly walking up to his father and glaring up at the almost entertainingly larger male. In response his father had the logic to look sheepish and hide the offending gadget behind his massive back. **"Dad! Mom! **I thought I told you to keep all of your inventions out of here!"

"But Danny boy, I was just going to show off this gizmo to your new friend-"

"I don't want to hear it." Said halva seethed before turning to face his next target, "And _**you**_," Blue eyes glared at equally blue eyes. "Ever since you first _came _to the city all you've done is ruin _everything_!"

"Danny!" Five shocked voices turned wide-eyed at the angry teen and his uncharacteristic outburst, "Danny, apologize!" His sister, being quicker on the uptake, rebuked him immediately hoping to prevent an even worse scene… but she was not fast enough.

"What have I _done_, huh?" The other blue-eyed boy's ire rapidly growing, "I've been in the city for less than a _**day**_**, **and _already_ I'm ruining _your_ life? Well that's just great; at least I'm good at one thing." Timmy would have thrown his gloved hands up in frustration, but then that would've tempted him to throw a punch… not that he would've connected… but still, it was the thought that mattered, "And how do you know it's not your _city, _that's the problem?"

The boys were practically nose to nose, both were growling angrily while sharing the same tense posture: both had hands fisted at their sides with their shoulders raised like an arched cat's… it didn't help that besides hair color they could've easily been twins. The irony was lost on everyone.

"Why didn't you stay in _California, _then?" Danny sneered, his eyes unknowingly switching between a glowing green and icy blue in his fury, "Or better yet, why don't you go _back_?" He worked hard to keep _his city, _safe… he was not going to let some… pink-wearing… bucktoothed… _punk_ insult it.

"I **CAN"T!**" His yell, now more sorrow than rage, seemed to break through to the others and stunned the ghost halva into silence, making Timmy's following whispers heard in the now silent bedroom, "I… I _tried_ to… everyone knows I tried so hard… but it just I couldn't. I kept _seeing_ them and _thinking _about them… _wondering_ when they were coming _home_." Tears were beginning to well up in his eyes, but he strengthened his resolve and blinked them away. His posture showed that of defeat, but his eyes (despite still being shiny with unshed tears) displayed the very aspect that made him… well, Timmy. "I'm sorry, for the disturbance… I'll be on my way," The brunette left the room, brushing passed his other two classmates, leaving five taken aback people in his wake.

Not Jazz, though, as she determinedly followed after the boy, who was somehow already at the front door despite the hallway and stairwell in between. The red-head rushed after him, composing her sentences before calling out to him. "Wait, Timmy?" Her target paused and turned around to face her. She felt guilt gnawing at her as he brushed away several tears from his face, some landing on the sidewalk in front of their house. The younger teen waited expectantly, and she remembered what she was going to say.

"I… just wanted to say I'm sorry, for my brother… I don't know why he's acting up like this… but he is a good person… he was the one who brought you here after you passed out at the Nasty Burger. Mom says it was probably just oxygen deprivation from smoke inhalation, so we didn't bring you to the hospital, and I-" She shook her head, as if to stop herself from her rambling and to remind herself to get to the point, "I just wanted to say that, although my brother doesn't seem all that kind, you are always welcome here. And if you need anyone to talk to, well, I go to Casper High too and I guess you know where I live." Jazz smiled brightly, hoping to cheer the boy up if only a little.

She was rewarded with a sniffle and a small, buck-toothed grin, "I'll remember that, thanks…" Thinking that was the end of this particular conversation, the red-headed Fenton turned and made her way up the stoop, only to pause as she heard Timmy's voice again, "I just… really wish I could go home…" and a soft popping noise. By the time she whirled around again, the brunette had disappeared in a puff of smoke.

* * *

"I expect 100 more wand-ups, Cadets, and no whining!" A deep, booming voice ordered launching around fifty small figures into action. The smallest, and youngest, of these had purple swirly hair, purple eyes, and a rattle rather than a wand… not that he needed it anymore, he was almost four years old already and in control of his large reserves of magic.

"Ouch! Cadet Poof!"

The key word is _almost_.

The small fairy flinched as Jorgen bellowed out his name, the buffer older fairy's combat boots unnecessarily stomping towards where he had stopped doing wand (or in his case) rattle-ups. Although the Jorgen von Strangle had been charmed by Poof in his infantile years- going so far as to dance in an embarrassingly pink bunny suit- this was the Fairy Academy… and there was a reason why the von Strangles (the Tooth Fairy included due to her marriage) were the most feared fairies in the world… and those muscles weren't just for show.

"Yes, sir?" Standing at attention, with rattle in his hand, the purple-eyed cadet craned his neck to get a glimpse of his superior's head.

"Do you see MY HAIR?" Again the deep Austrian (or was it German?) accent boomed, and a muscular arm moved to point at what Poof could only guess as Jorgen's head.

"Not really, sir! You are too tall, sir!" He may be three (almost four!) years old, but he already enjoyed defying authority where he could (he was a very mature three year old)… and plus, he was still used to the silly babysitter Jorgen rather than the angry general Jorgen.

What ensued was rather simple: Jorgen grabbed Poof (somewhat gently, but only in comparison to what he did to Binky), flung him so high that- "Whoa, that's new." - Poof could now see what his accidental magic had done to the buffer fairy's head (his hair had turned into a rainbow afro that served as a nest for a miniature three headed dragon) and had effectively sent him to the rainbow slide towards Earth. Not that Poof minded at all… it was seven minutes until the academy dismissed for the term anyways and he missed his parents and his god-brother.

He liked his family; he liked to think there was good chemistry and dynamics. His parents were predictably predictable: his dad would do something stupid, his mom would call him an idiot then clean it up, and everything would be okay in the end. His god-brother, despite being only human, could change sides easily, either by causing as much (if not more) mayhem than his father or by fixing it up before his mother could finish scolding his father. And Poof himself, during the times that he wasn't at the Fairy Academy, often served in the reverse role… to even things out.

And then… it happened. Not that Poof had much interaction with the elder Turners, and everyone knew that he didn't much care for them. Poof was a very spoiled baby (he had all of Fairyland practically wrapped around his little finger) so having to share _his_ Tim-Tim with his god-brother's human parents did not make the purple fairy very happy. He wouldn't have to worry about _that_ any more. Oh, he wasn't _glad_ that they were dead (he was jealous, not evil) but the only reason why he was sad because of the effect it had on Timmy. Poof's human brother was sad, and although that made him closer to the fairy family… it did not necessarily make him happier. And it always made going home a little bit... tenser than he would have liked.

Like now… when his family would have usually been waiting for him with open wands, or at least caught in the middle of some hilarious and dangerous conflict… now he was pressed against the door (not that the fairies used them, they were for Timmy's sake) listening to snatches of the muffled conversation between his parents and his god-sibling.

"… _Ghosts… didn't tell me… about my parents… could be ghosts!"_ Ah, that was Timmy's voice… but Poof couldn't tell if he was angry or sad.

"_Sweetie…"_ That was his mom _"Can't tell you… Da Rules… secret…"_

"… _Didn't help… before… almost killed… brought me here instead… carried to Fenton's!"_ He was definitely angry now.

"_Can't… magic near ghosts… boy is weird… couldn't do… him close either…"_ Was that father's voice?

"_Idiot!"_ Yeah, that was Wanda's now, _"Sweetie… tomorrow… please… go to sleep… school tomorrow…"_

And before he could fix himself, Poof was staring up at his god-brother, thanking Fate or whoever was in charge that the pink-hatter had angrily slammed open the _other_ door hard enough to make a crack in the wall. Wide purple eyes couldn't help but look away in shame as his god-brother finally took notice of him and… smiled.

"Hey, Poof… the Academy's already on holiday? I wonder what we should this time…"

Now he remembered why he hadn't just floated into the room… he was scared…

"… We are in a new city and all, so we should probably do small-time stuff…"

Not of his human brother's anger or sorrow… and not of possible consequences…

"… There's this teacher-guy at my new school, we definitely have to go after him…"

But of this… fake happiness. The false cheery mask that Tim-Tim and his parents wore to make it seem like everything was okay and everything was normal…

"… So do you want to do some recon work tonight?"

And the worse part was that, no matter how it seemed to be killing everyone on the inside, he was too scared to break it. "No," Poof faked a yawn, his mind troubled with what he had overheard and just realized, "We had to do a whole bunch of wand-ups… I'm pretty tired. Maybe tomorrow; tomorrow is Friday, so we'll have the weekend to…" Ooh… _stupid_! Had he _not _just overheard his mother say something about _tomorrow_?

The human boy almost dropped his cheerful façade at the word… but quickly recomposed himself, "Yeah, we should both probably go to sleep. See you in the morning." With one last phony grin, the brunette turned down the hallway towards his room of the fish-bowl castle.

"Goodnight," The purple fairy offered quietly before following suit, "Sweet dreams."

"Doubt it." The teenager muttered masochistically to himself, before finding his bedroom door and shutting it with a click of finality... until it opened in approximately 3.2 hours.

* * *

"Really now, Daniel, is that the _best _you can do?" It was like a B-grade horror movie: The sophisticated yet somehow sleazy vampire taunting and stalking after a group of helpless teenagers in the middle of a silent, moonlit night. Of course, there were major differences between this situation and said B-grade horror movie. For one, the vampire wasn't _really _a vampire- just a lonely middle-aged man accidentally imbued with ghostly powers. For two, the teenagers weren't _completely_ helpless- they _did_ have _some _experience in ghost hunting. For three, the night wasn't all that silent- not with the supposedly helpless teenagers squabbling amongst themselves.

"_I think you should apologize to him. Jazz said he was crying when she caught up to him."_ The only female wearing a Fenton-phone said as she made her way into position.

"_Wow, a magician __**and**__ he's a sensitive guy. Sam, are you __**sure**__ you don't like him?"_ A joking voice belonging to the team's techno-geek answered his friend's as he, too, cautiously moved towards his spot.

"I could do a lot better if you weren't **cheating**," The last teenager, this one also granted with ghostly powers like his vampire-wannabe antagonist, retorted at his opponent before directing his words into the Fenton-phone, "Sam, I'll say sorry and play nice **tomorrow**. And Tucker," The teenage ghost halva grunted as a sudden ecto-blast sent him into a convenient brick wall, "You are really **not** helping!"

Despite the seemingly relaxed dialogue, the teens _were_ in a dangerous predicament. They were facing the strongest (so far, anyways) enemy they had… and his three clones. It would have been slightly more evenly matched had all three teens been gifted with ghost powers, but alas, only one had… and he had to stand up against the original while his friends were left to fend themselves against the clones.

Maybe it was more like a B-grade **science fiction **movie.

They were faring well: Team Phantom had the sense to dispel one of the clones immediately after Plasmius had created them, so it was a three-on-three fight… but it was still rather difficult when all they had was an inexperienced ghost halva, the three Fenton-phones, one Fenton thermos, one ecto-blaster lipstick, the Specter Deflector, and Tucker's trusty PDA.

It wasn't the worst situation they'd ever been in… but it certainly wasn't the best.

Tucker Foley and Sam Manson (who else could they be?) were now closing in on one of the clones in the middle of a residential street (they didn't know the name of it, but that hardly mattered in this case scenario) ready to implement their plan. It had already been decided that Tucker (who admittedly had better aim) would use the effeminate ecto-blaster to stun if not destroy the clone, while Sam (who admittedly was less likely to drop her defense-turned-weapon) would use the Specter Deflector to finish the clone off. It meant that the Goth girl would have to get close to the clone (which admittedly made _all_ of them nervous) but after all that was what the steel-toed boots were for.

In roughly 15 seconds they had executed their plan along with the ghost clone before rushing back into a connecting alley, already on the hunt for the final clone. In about seven minutes they had found and destroyed their target. It took them roughly a quarter of an hour before they realized they hadn't heard a word from Danny.

"_Danny? Where ARE YOU?"_

Now, before you go off and melt into a worried puddle of goo… Danny is not dead (well, seeing as how he is half ghost he's probably some kind of partial dead) nor has he been captured against his will. Despite his infinitesimally shorter experience with his powers, Danny was holding up pretty well against the older evil ghost halva… his patience, however? Not so much.

"Really now, Daniel, is that the _best _you can do?"

"Will you **stop** saying that? Geez, it's like that's the only thing you can say." Danny Phantom, or Daniel as Vlad preferred to call him, had long since turned off his Fenton-phone: trading worrying over his friends, for concentration in his own battle. And plus, he knew Tucker and Sam were okay, if they weren't, Vlad would have said something _else_ by now.

"Drat, it seems like your friends have destroyed my clones…"

Tucker and Sam were definitely okay.

"… Not that they had much power in them, but they have quite the interesting tactic. However, what that means now, is that I can focus all of my frustrated and superior power on you."

As for him? Not so much.

"Crud," Abruptly grabbing onto a streetlamp, Danny used his own momentum (he had been flying, you see) to turn around in the air before doing what could only be called as a hasty retreat (or running away). While it was wise to get away from the vampire-like ghost, it was very, **very** foolish for Danny to leave his back unguarded. Soon, flying through the air after the boy, a colossal magenta fireball streaked through the sky- seen only by the halva that had created it, and the two target's friends who were running towards it.

What followed was a noise that would have chilled many grown men to the bones. In one word, it could only be described as _**pain**__._ A mix of a howl, screech, and a wail ripped its way out of the victim's throat as the scorching ecto-attack made contact. Immediately afterwards the once flying teen was now plummeting to the ground; his mind torn between the increasing panic of Vlad's imminent attack and the urge to just knock out to let his body sleep through the pain.

Needless to say, as he threw his white-haired head back (since he was falling head first, this meant he could see what exactly he would fall onto), he decided that he could leave sleeping for later (although, seeing as it was 2:00 in the morning, _later_ probably meant during Lancer's class… again). Seeing the roof of a house nearing at a pace a little too fast for his liking, Danny (with probably the last vestiges of his power) forced himself to perform the simplest of ghost tricks: going intangible. He hoped to God that he would have enough power to phase all the way through the tiled roof rather than get stuck half-way in.

As it turns out, it wasn't necessary. The roof was an illusion and the ghost halva had succeeded only in crash landing into an empty room with no ceiling… meaning he was able to clearly see his opponent up in the sky form yet another monumental, pink fireball. Danny cringed, knowing very well that he barely had enough energy to stay conscious let alone make an ecto-shield strong enough to stop it, preparing for the impending burns. He closed his eyes, waiting for the painful attack to hit.

It did… just… not the intended halva. Plasmius let out a rather indignant squawk as he was suddenly now on the defense against his own ectoplasm fireball. The fuchsia orb had turned around in mid-air; bouncing off an invisible shield that Danny was sure hadn't been there earlier. But that wasn't on his mind right now, his glowing green eyes wide with shock; it was the figure standing over him, face hidden in the shadows of the cloak's hood.

"Who are you?"

* * *

**A/N: Again I am VERY, VERY sorry for the wait… as my Second Taile readers know this is an old song… but hopefully this story will not end up with an almost one year pause like my other story… yeah… I know this isn't a holiday or anything… but I was in Japan before July 4****th**** so I couldn't do much writing there…**

**So YAY I finally updated… if anyone cares to know Chapter 2 had been posted about a week (or less) than Fairly Odd Parents: Fairly Odd Baby had come out… I **_**really**_** had not expected the baby to be Cosmo and Wanda's and I wanted to stay as close to canon for everything (so that at least **_**something**_** would be recognizable from the original series) so I had to revamp **_**everything**_**. This chapter in particular… although... I do kind of like how the "fight" (haha… yeah right) scenes turned out… I mean, I'm not all that good with action (or romance, or dialogue, or descriptive, or…) so at least it wasn't such a total failure… I wrote a little more than usual (but you guys deserve so, so much more) and hopefully I'll be a little quicker for the next update…**

**Still sorry for not bring in the Masked Magician… but at least I brought in Phantom right? ****Thank you for reading and for those of you who have reviewed:**

**mystery writer5775: Yeah… Danny's been a little bit wild… but that will be remedied soon enough… because, really, after this chapter, I doubt he could get any worse…**

**Dannyphantomfn2: Well I don't think I write all that well… and truthfully most (more like 99 percent) of my plot bunnies never actually make it onto paper (or in this case, Microsoft Word) and I don't really think I'm much of a writer to give others advice… though I can probably tell you what not to do… try one-shots and similar shorts before you start any multi-chaptered things. And thanks for the support… although at this rate I don't think I'm going to finish anytime soon.**

**dArkliTe-sPirit: Erm… yes… his parents **_**are**_** dead… and as I said before its not that good… at least not enough to warrant such a compliment… thanks for the support though, and hopefully this chapter was of good enough quality… Second review: Yeah… but considering Timmy's status he should do just fine… and the Fa Giggly gland thing was a bit of a stretch, I'm glad someone likes it… and hopefully Timmy's reaction to the Lunch Lady will be entertaining…**

**swish101: Thanks… and sorry for the late update… I'm not so sure about going to a different website… I mean I've pretty much been ingrained with fanfiction so I'd probably get confused… but thanks for the suggestion**

**Chris ShadowMoon: Well… I'm glad you like this fic enough that I didn't discourage you from either category… **

**Zim'sMostLoyalServant: If you want to know a secret… after I read your review I couldn't help but start smiling and squealing like a fangirl at a boy band concert… needless to say I got a few strange looks from the people around me (I had checked my email in the library… kind of embarrassing)… Well, the emo-Timmy was actually because I had watched Abra-catastrophe and he gets pretty emo in some parts so I wanted to bring that back (I absolutely loved that particular movie)… I'm not entirely sure which chapter he's going to become the Masked Magician but I'm hoping I'll be able to put it in the next chapter and yeah his outfit will be different… no I'm not pairing Timmy up with Sam, they just met after all… and its more of a "get Danny jealous" subplot (and I like DxS too)... and I don't want to give too much away about the Anti-Fairies although I like your idea… that alone will probably motivate me to write the entire climax (when I get to it)… thanks so much for the support and suggestion… **

**albinochocobo: … I don't know what to say either… but thanks and sorry for taking so long…**

**Hikari1994: I don't want to knock on the other crossovers, but must of them do center more around comedy than anything else so I wanted to try a new twist on an old idea… but thanks… **

**Thanks to those who favorite-d and reviewed, love you all! Please review! ((Insert shameless begging))**

**See you again in Amity Park! **


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